The Rogue Knight (11 page)

“I recently got my abilities back,” Mira said. “They're more useful in Sambria.”

“What about your sisters?” Madeline asked.

“I don't know,” Mira said. “We're been hiding separately for years. I'm here because Honor is in trouble. We think she may have been captured.”

Madeline shook her head in astonishment. “Can you verify your identity?”

“Most of the people who knew me are now old or dead,” Mira said. “I still have my royal seal. Each of the daughters had one. My mother smuggled them to us before we were sent into exile.”

Mira produced an engraved golden disk fastened to a chain and embellished with tiny diamonds. It was the first Cole had heard of it.

Madeline accepted the seal, waved a hand over it, then peered at it closely. She handed it to Verilan, who took a long look as well.

Verilan sank to one knee, head bowed. Madeline followed his lead. “Your Highness,” he said gravely. “We had not dared to hope that you survived.”

“It's the High Shaper's most closely guarded secret,” Joe said. “You may have shortened your lives by learning it.”

“You tried to warn us,” Madeline said thoughtfully.

“Please, rise,” Mira offered.

Verilan and Madeline stood.

“Who are you?” Verilan asked Cole.

After Mira's introduction, he felt like any description he gave would sound anticlimactic. “I'm not a princess.”

“He's a wanted slave who came here from Outside,” Joe clarified.

“He's with us now,” Mira added. “A trusted ally.”

“This is the wildest news we've had in years,” Madeline said with breathless excitement. “I'm in the inner circle of the Unseen, but I never heard a whisper of it.”

“We're very careful about sharing this knowledge,” Joe said. “Their mother kept the secret to herself for a great while. Only recently has she reached out to a few among the Unseen. Many of our most trusted members have no idea. The information is only shared when the need is most dire. I'm serving as her protector.”

“Think of what this could mean to the revolution,” Verilan murmured.

“We're well aware,” Joe said. “First priority is to secure the other princesses. Do you have any information about recent Ellowine prisoners surrounded by the highest levels of secrecy and security?”

Madeline put a hand to her mouth. “Blackmont Castle.”

Verilan nodded. “In Edgemont. They're keeping a nameless prisoner there under unusually strict guard.”

“Edgemont is just outside of Merriston,” Joe told Mira. “It's in line with the marker that initially guided us.”

“Marker?” Madeline asked.

“Until recently, we had an indicator that pointed toward Honor's location,” Joe said. “It no longer functions.”

“Our best spies only know that the prisoner exists,” Madeline said. “None have managed to confirm the identity. There has been much speculation about what prisoner would demand such extreme precautions. It must be her.”

“It's our first good lead in some time,” Joe said. “Thank you.”

Cole felt relieved that the lead was near Merriston. That meant finding Dalton could stay his top priority without pulling everyone else off course from searching for Honor.

“It's the least we could do,” Madeline said. “Your secrets require more trust than I expected. I want to share mine.”

“Are you sure?” Verilan asked.

“Positive,” she replied. “My name is not Madeline. I'm Skye. I change my appearance every few months, as if Verilan keeps hiring new assistants. They're characters I play.”

“I couldn't perform the show without her,” Verilan confessed. “I'm the apprentice in this partnership. Almost all the seemings you witnessed tonight were hers.”

“Wait,” Joe said. “Skye. Are you Skye Ryland?”

She gave a little bow. “At your service.”

Joe chuckled incredulously. “You're a legend! One of the best illusionists in all of Elloweer. And one of the main leaders of the resistance.”

She gave a little wave. “Unseen. Inner circle. I wasn't lying.”

Jace gestured at Verilan. “What do you really look like?”

“This is me,” Verilan said, spreading his hands and flashing a practiced smile.

Skye covered her mouth and whispered, “I helped him with the tan.”

“The tan is enhanced,” Verilan agreed. “And my real name is Alan. Not that it matters. I go by Verilan everywhere.”

Skye approached Mira and took one of her hands. “We're in the same kind of trouble. I'm wanted. Not as badly as you, but I have plenty of enemies, including your father. This act is my camouflage. I'm a fugitive.”

“We don't want to put you in greater danger,” Mira apologized.

“You misunderstand,” Skye said. “I want to share your danger. There won't be any fee for my services. I don't just want to help you with disguises. I want to help you find your sister.”

“What about the show?” Verilan asked, a little shaken.

“You could team up with Mandy,” Skye said. “Have her pose as your latest assistant. She could handle most of my illusions. Or you could take a break. We've made plenty of money. Our arrangement was never meant to be permanent.”

“You want to join us?” Joe asked Skye.

“I've never heard opportunity knock so loudly,” Skye said. “It isn't every day I get the chance to strike a serious blow against the High King. Will you have me?”

Joe turned, deferring to Mira.

“Absolutely,” Mira said. “We plan to leave Carthage soon.”

Cole let out a breath. He had seen Skye's seemings in action. It would be a huge advantage to have help from someone with her talents.

“Good,” Skye said. “Most of the people looking for you have no idea who you really are, but word is out about your presence here. I should age you. People are watching for a girl and three boys.”

“You should make Cole older as well,” Mira said.

“What's your story?” Skye asked him.

“My slavemark got changed to a freemark,” Cole said, holding up his hand to display the mark. “But the slaver who captured me saw me and is after me.”

“Which slaver?”

“Ansel Pratt.”

Skye grimaced. “He's a nasty one. But I can only adjust one of you tonight. A lasting seeming saps a lot of strength, and I'm already worn down after the show.”

“How do you keep your energy up?” Mira asked. “There were so many seemings tonight.”

“Prep work helps,” Skye said. “I enchant items to produce certain illusions, like the hoop, or the bracelet that turns Verilan into the announcer. Verilan assists with several of the seemings. Even after major preparations, the show still requires a great deal of effort and concentration. If I stretch beyond my limits, I could end up sick, dead, or insane, and anyone nearby could be injured as well. But I'm confident I can handle one of you tonight.”

“Change Mira tonight,” Cole said. “She's in the most danger.”

“Okay,” Skye said. “We'll meet up tomorrow and I'll disguise Cole. How soon do you want to leave town?”

“I'd love to be on our way before nightfall tomorrow,” Joe said. “Day after that at the latest.”

“Then let's take care of Mira and get you out of here,” Skye said. “Do you mind leaving me alone with her? Work like this goes better without distractions. You can wait right outside.”

Mira nodded, and Cole, Jace, Twitch, Joe, and Verilan left the dressing room. Verilan led them out to the stage. They sat on the edge in a row with their legs dangling.

“Think Skye could darken my tan?” Jace asked.

“She could make you look like anything,” Verilan said. “You've got plenty of color already. My natural skin tone is quite pale.”

“You're part of the resistance too?” Cole asked.

“Yes,” Verilan said. “I'm also a member of the Unseen, but Skye is more heavily involved.”

“Are you bummed to lose her?” Jace asked.

“What do you think?” Verilan said. “The woman has irreplaceable talent. Her capacity for seemings is nothing short of astonishing.”

“How are you in a fight?” Jace asked. “Maybe you could join us too.”

Verilan chuckled. “I'm no warrior. I'll take some time off, work on a new show with a new partner. You're lucky to have her help. She knows her way around Elloweer. Your chances of success just went way up.”

When Skye finally emerged, she was accompanied by a short, plump, middle-aged woman. A scarf bound the woman's brown hair. She had a plain face and wore simple clothes.

“Is that you, Mira?” Cole asked.

“What do you think?” the woman asked, not sounding like Mira at all.

“Perfect,” Joe said. “Nothing about you stands out.”

Cole agreed. The woman wasn't ugly or pretty, tall or short, heavy or thin. She looked very ordinary.

“Skye is a genius,” the woman said.

“I'm glad you're pleased,” Skye said. “I'm wiped out. Joe, why don't we meet tomorrow at Trellis Square? You know the place?”

“I'll find it,” Joe said.

“Look for me around the third hour of the day,” Skye said. “Verilan will show you to a stage door. Did you come by coach?”

“We did,” Joe said.

“You should find it near the north curb,” Skye said. “The officials won't let coaches linger out front without passengers present. Until tomorrow.”

Verilan guided them across the stage to the opposite wing from Skye's dressing room and out a simple, unmarked door. Their coach waited not too far down the side street, near a couple of others. Streetlamps glared brightly enough to wash out most of the stars overhead. The side street didn't have much pedestrian traffic, but Cole kept his head down, just in case. In less than a day, he would have a disguise that would render him invisible to his enemies. It would be nice to walk in public without a constant fear of discovery.

In the coach, Joe asked Mira some trivia to ensure it was really her. Cole didn't blame him. Mira looked and sounded like a complete stranger.

After the coach dropped them off a few blocks from the inn, they made their way to their rooms without trouble. In bed, Cole relived the events of the day with gratitude. He knew where to find Dalton! He could still hardly believe it. How many days before he got to see his friend again? They also had a lead about Honor's location, and a guide to help them get there. As he drifted off to sleep, Cole wondered what Skye would make him look like in the morning.

C
HAPTER

 11 

TAKEN

“C
ole,” Twitch whispered urgently. “You hear that?”

The words reached Cole through an exhausted haze. Twitch and his bed were dim shapes in the darkness. Cole felt deliciously cozy inside the pocket of warmth between his covers. He wanted to ignore the question and sink back to sleep. Instead, he propped himself up on one elbow. “Huh?”

“Listen,” Twitch whispered quietly.

Twitch had never awakened him like this. What did he think he had heard? Was he being paranoid? Twitch was cautious, but not stupid.

A faint metallic scraping came from over by the door.

“That?” Cole asked, tensing up.

“Oh, no,” Twitch said, swinging his grasshopper legs out of his bed.

With a final click, the door burst open. A lantern backlit the stealthy figures racing into the room. Cole had barely sat up before rough hands seized him and squashed a coarse rag against his nose and mouth.

Struggling, Cole inhaled a chemical scent from the damp rag. The fumes burned inside his nostrils and throat, making him instantly woozy. Coughing and choking, Cole bucked and twisted as strong arms picked him up. One assailant pinned Cole's arms to his torso while the other held his legs together.

The rag remained over his face. Having coughed out his air supply, Cole inhaled the piquant odor again. His senses receded. He thought he heard glass breaking. A gruff voice gave terse, unintelligible orders. They were carrying him. Or was he floating? He couldn't resist anymore. It was hard to move. He could feel his consciousness slipping away, and tried to fight it, but his mind was already too far adrift. Insensibility overcame him.

“Kid's coming around,” a dry voice said.

“About time,” another voice answered.

Cole decided he should pretend to still be asleep. He was sitting up, tied to a chair, with a sharp ache behind the center of his forehead. He kept his head down and his eyes closed.

“Don't play possum,” the first voice said. “I know you're listening. Your breathing changed.”

Cole recognized the voice. Full of despair and dread, he opened his eyes.

Pushing his hat back a little, Ansel grinned. “Scarecrow! I just knew we'd meet again.”

They were in a squalid, bare room with old brick walls. Ansel and Ham sat in worn wooden chairs by a rickety table. They had apparently been playing cards. The room had no windows and a single sturdy wooden door. A pair of lanterns provided light, showing dark stains on the walls and floor, perhaps from flooding.

Cole found that he still had both of his hands. That was a relief. But Ansel was free to carry out his threat at any moment. Cole tried not to fixate on the sickle.

“Where are we?” Cole asked.

The grin disappeared. “I'll ask the questions.”

Cole squirmed, testing his bindings. Thick ropes held him in a snug, scratchy embrace. His torso was lashed to the back of the chair, and his legs were bound to the wooden legs.

“You're not going anywhere,” Ansel said. “Best to shake off any thoughts of freedom. That's all in the past. You lasted longer than most runaways. You still have your hand.”

“I noticed,” Cole said.

“The freemark on your wrist is remarkable. Looks completely authentic. No hint you ever bore a slavemark. Where'd you get it?”

Declan was in hiding far away. Telling the truth shouldn't cause the Grand Shaper of Sambria any trouble. Cole swallowed. Maybe Ansel would show him some mercy if he was honest.

“I got it from Declan,” Cole said. “One of the Grand Shapers.”

This earned a wry chuckle from Ansel. “If you're going to tell a whopper, might as well be a doozy.”

Cole gritted his teeth. Being honest wouldn't help much if Ansel didn't believe it. “Do you know a lot of other people who can turn a slavemark into a freemark without a trace?”

Ansel rubbed his chin, studying him. “Okay, Scarecrow, tell me how a runaway slave happened to meet the exiled Grand Shaper of Sambria.”

“I escaped Skyport in a skycraft,” Cole said. “Adam Jones knew about it. I flew into the Eastern Cloudwall and found Declan back there. He helped me. He's not there anymore. The legionnaires chasing me flushed him out.”

Ham slammed a meaty hand down on the tabletop. “Enough! I'll not hear another lie out of you. Come clean to the boss, or I'll make you speak true.”

The outburst made Cole flinch and close his eyes. When he peeked, he saw Ansel holding out a staying hand to Ham. “Boy may not be lying.”

Ham's eyes bulged with disbelief, but he made no reply.

“I'm not saying his tale sounds credible,” Ansel clarified. “I'm just saying it might be true. Go fetch Secha.”

Ham rose, crossed the room, and went out the door. Cole saw dim, grimy stairs through the doorway. Nothing else. Cole wondered if he would ever climb those stairs. The chances didn't seem good. If he did, it would be as a one-handed slave. He had to stay calm. After the door closed, Ansel gave Cole a long stare.

“Who are you traveling with?” the slaver asked.

“Some other slaves from Skyport,” Cole said. “We escaped together. A man we met is helping us.”

Ansel nodded slowly. “A girl and two boys. And a member of the Unseen.”

Cole was surprised he knew so much.

“I've been asking about you,” Ansel said, responding to Cole's expression. “Others are looking for a group that fled from Skyport. Easy math.”

“How'd you find me?” Cole asked.

“Don't forget who's asking the questions,” Ansel said. “People want the girl. Very important people. Who is she?”

“You don't want to get mixed up with her,” Cole said.

Ansel's face went blank. “I'll be the judge of that. Who is she?”

“I don't know,” Cole said.

Ansel stood up and grimly shook his head. “Now you're lying.” He hefted his sickle, the cruel blade sinister in his grasp. Veins stood out on the back of his hand.

Cole stared in silence. Mira had trusted him with her secret. Ansel had kidnapped Cole from the same inn where she was staying—there could still be people watching the place, ready to snatch her on command. Cole couldn't reveal her true value. “She's a strong shaper.”

“That might be part of it,” Ansel said. “You don't have to leave this room alive, Scarecrow.”

“I know.”

“Or in one piece,” Ansel added menacingly. “I've heard talk of a slave who ran away from the High King. A slave he desperately wants back.”

It was the story the legionnaires had given when they came for Mira at Skyport. It wasn't true, but if Ansel thought she was a runaway slave, he might decide he was just the slaver to bring her in.

“She's no slave,” Cole said.

“I expect she has a freemark,” Ansel said. “I'm sure it's precisely as genuine as yours. The High King is my number one customer.”

The door opened and Secha entered, the swarthy woman who had given Cole his slavemark. Ham followed her in and closed the door.

The woman shuffled over to Cole. “The Grand Shaper undid my mark?”

“Yeah,” Cole said.

Secha bent over the mark, eyeing it closely. She rubbed it and sniffed it. She murmured soft words.

“What do you think?” Ansel asked.

“Could be the Grand Shaper's work,” Secha said. “I have no better explanation. It's as if my mark never happened. A transformation this perfect should not be possible.”

“Leave us,” Ansel said. “The boy and I have matters to discuss.”

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Joe entered, bow drawn. Jace stepped through the doorway behind him, golden rope in hand.

Cole's heart surged—they had found him!

Ham charged them, and the rope lashed out, wrapped around his torso, and heaved him upward, snapping his neck sickeningly against the ceiling. His bulky body flopped to the floor.

“Stand down!” Joe yelled, an arrow ready to fly.

Ansel, his expression dark but guarded, slowly set down his sickle and raised his hands. “You heard the man, Secha,” he said.

Hands up, Secha sidled toward Ansel.

“That's far enough,” Joe ordered. “On the floor, facedown, both of you.”

They obeyed without resistance.

Twitch and Mira entered behind Joe and Jace. Cole could hardly believe they were all here! When he woke up tied to the chair, he had known that at best he would lose a hand and end up a slave. At worst he would be tortured and killed. He hadn't dared to imagine the possibility of a rescue.

Mira hurried to him and used her Jumping Sword to cut his bindings. “Are you all right?” she asked.

“I'm okay,” Cole said, stunned that the statement was true. “I thought I was toast. How'd you find me?”

“Twitch,” Jace said. “He got away through the window when they came for you. He tailed them here, then came and got us. To make it easy, they brought you to West Carthage.” Jace wiggled his golden rope to emphasize his point.

Cole stood up, rubbing his arms where the ropes had limited his circulation. Now he understood why Mira no longer looked like a middle-aged woman. No longer in Elloweer, her seeming had dissolved. Ansel glared up from the floor.

“Watch out for Ansel,” Cole said. “He's dangerous. And he knows we're the people everyone is looking for.”

“How much does he know?” Joe inquired.

“That we escaped from Skyport,” Cole said. “That you're helping us. He heard that one of us is a slave who escaped from the High King.”

“You're outlaws,” Ansel rasped. “I took Cole as a slave legally. He changed his mark.”

“You better pray we're not outlaws,” Joe said. “This is about the time when outlaws would start killing witnesses.”

“We're not going to kill him?” Jace asked.

Joe looked over at him. “Like this? After he surrendered?”

Jace shrugged. “Too easy?”

“He'll hunt us,” Cole warned.

“I'm seldom at a disadvantage,” Ansel said. “Can't claim to like it, but I also can't do much to change it. Not while the boy has that rope and you have that bow.” He gave a disgusted sneer, then clenched his jaw. “Tell you what. If you let me and Secha go, we'll return the favor. I won't pursue any of you. Easy as that. This never happened.”

Secha looked at Ansel with stunned surprise.

Ansel noticed her expression. “What? You got a better idea?” His eyes returned to Joe. “Offer stands.”

“This could end badly if he's lying,” Twitch pointed out.

Ansel gave an angry laugh. “Traders who lie don't stay in business. I claimed Cole lawfully. Don't fault me for tracking him down. It's like guzzling vinegar, but I'll concede that you got the best of me. I'm in no rush to die. It's time to cut my losses and walk away. That's my word on the matter. Secha?”

“Me too,” Secha said. “Let us live, and this is forgotten.”

“How'd you find me?” Cole asked.